


Mey-Gon 01 - Origin Story

by SexyWookieeSquadron



Series: Mey-Gon stories [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Acting, Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Awesome Leia Organa, Battle of Endor (Star Wars), Blasters (Star Wars), Canto Bight, Damsels in Distress, Droid Appreciation Week, Droid Feels (Star Wars), Droids (Star Wars), Fame, Famous, First Order, First Order Politics (Star Wars), First Order Stormtroopers - Freeform, General Leia Organa, Good Parent Han Solo, HoloNet (Star Wars), Holodramas (Star Wars), Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Leia Organa Deserves Better, Leia Organa Ships It, Minor Leia Organa/Han Solo, New Republic Defense Force, New Republic Era (Star Wars), New Republic Politics (Star Wars), Origin Story, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Parent Han Solo, Pilot Poe Dameron, Planet D'Qar (Star Wars), Planet Hosnian Prime (Star Wars), Poe Dameron - Freeform, Poe Dameron Being a Little Shit, Racing, Rebellion, Rescue, Rescue Missions, Resistance, Senator Leia Organa, Sexy Wookiee Squadron, Space Mom Leia Organa, Star Wars - Freeform, Star Wars OC - Freeform, Star Wars Original Character - Freeform, Star Wars Resistance, Star Wars: Sequel Trilogy Era, Stormtroopers (Star Wars) - Freeform, Swoop Racing (Star Wars), The Resistance Era, Undercover, Undercover Missions, Wealth, Wine, X-Wing Fighter (Star Wars), actress, celebrity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28084866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SexyWookieeSquadron/pseuds/SexyWookieeSquadron
Summary: This story sets up the background for one of our OCs: Mey-Gon Niek.How does a famous, wealthy party girl end up joining forces with a controversial paramilitary group like the Resistance?(written by Megan)
Series: Mey-Gon stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057475
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

_26 ABY, Hosnian Prime_

Despite the minimalist styling, it was still one of the most luxurious rooms Mey-Gon had ever been in; and it was only the waiting room. Even as her eyes roamed, she had to squeeze the fingers of one hand tightly in the palm on the other to keep herself from fidgeting further. She didn’t want the secretary behind the desk in the corner to think that a professional like herself was nervous about being here.

Excited or nervous, she couldn’t really tell the difference anymore. All she knew was that she loved these kind of dizzying moments, the icy tingle of adrenaline in her veins. It was this addiction that drove her back again and again to nerve-racking auditions from the time she was ten years old until she’d started to land acting roles steadily enough to call it a career. Then, when her tolerance for the fear and pressure of the industry grew too strong, she had discovered a whole new threshold of exhilaration in the high-speed sport of swoop racing. She bought her first bike at sixteen and was racing competitively by eighteen. In the four years since she’d joined the sport, she had worked her way up to a mid-level league and started gaining a whole new kind of fanbase. It was ironic that her notoriety as a racer had probably helped land her the role that had brought her to this office but also resulted in her having to take the entire coming season off to shoot the holodrama. She had read the script, though, and the swoop chase scene she would be shooting more than made up for a missed season.

Her daydream about weaving a bike between giant trees was interrupted by the secretary looking up from her monitor and announcing, “Senator Organa is ready for you now.”

“Thank you,” Mey-Gon stood up and smoothed her dress.

The door next to the secretary’s desk slid open, and Mey-Gon paused to take a deep breath before walking through into the office beyond. As she entered, she saw the senator stand up from behind her own beautiful desk and walk around it to greet her with an outstretched hand.

“Lovely to meet you, Miss Niek,” the older woman said as they shook hands.

“It’s an absolute honor, Senator Organa,” Mey-Gon tried not to sound too giddy.

“Leia, please,” she said kindly, then swept her scrutinizing gaze up and down the actress’s tall frame, green eyes, and copper hair, “You look nothing like me.”

“That’s the magic of the business,” Mey-Gon assured her with a smile, “As long as I capture enough of your spirit, the visual wizards will do the rest.”

Leia gestured to a couch and admitted as they both settled in, “I must say, Mey-Gon, I have not seen any of your previous work. Politicking doesn’t allow for much leisure time to watch holovids.”

Unfazed, she maintained her energetic smile, “Oh, that’s all right. I doubt many of them have made it as far as the Core anyway. I’m only well-known in my home system of Haidoral and maybe a few other Mid Rim worlds. Maybe someday, though, yeah? This part is definitely a step towards galactic fame.”

Leia let out a genuine chuckle, “You have my ambition, at least. How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.”

She smiled and nodded, “About the same age as my son, then. So you won’t remember anything of the Galactic Civil War, yourself.”

“No, ma’am. The battle on Haidoral Prime happened a year before I was born. I’ve only ever known the New Republic. But I’ve studied so much about you and those last years of the war. This holodrama is going to start with the Battle of Endor and cover the first few years of establishing the government. I know the whole plot: your victory, your marriage, your training with your brother, the signing of the Galactic Concordance, and the birth of your son. The beats are clear, I just need to know how each of these events made you _feel_. What was going through your mind?”

A veil of nostalgia fell over the senator’s pleasant expression, “Well, well, that is a lot to cover. Let’s start at Endor…”

The next hour and a half barely got them through the subject of Jedi training, but it took them on a roller coaster of emotions all the way. Leia seemed guarded with some details, but generous with her feelings. Mey-Gon studied her carefully, memorizing her mannerisms, cadence of speaking, and all the other subconscious details she would need in order to portray a convincing version of this amazing woman. At the same time, she engaged in the conversation by asking more probing questions or drawing parallels to her own limited life experience, hoping to find real emotional memories to draw on in her performance.

Gradually, a bond began to form between the two and both were shocked when Leia’s secretary peeked in to let her boss know that it was past time to shut down the office and remind her of her dinner reservations. How had the time gone so fast? To Mey-Gon’s surprise, Leia barely hesitated before inviting her to join the dinner and continue their conversation. She accepted immediately and felt that delicious prickling of excitement return. Dinner at a fancy restaurant on Hosnian Prime with Leia Organa? Dreams really could come true.

When they arrived, Mey-Gon was more relieved than ever that she had decided to wear one of her nicest dresses for this meeting and had sculpted her hair into a fashionable style to match. If only her accessories had been just a little more expensive, she would have fit in perfectly with the clientele of the restaurant. The only person dressed more casually than her was their dinner companion, who still managed to take her breath away when he stood up to greet her as they arrived.

“Mey-Gon,” Leia introduced, “Meet my husband, Han.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she whispered in awe as she held out her hand.

Nearly as legendary as the senator, herself, Han Solo was also still an incredibly charming, handsome man. Clearly he caught the dazzle in Mey-Gon’s eyes, so in lieu of a handshake, he brought her fingers up to his mouth for a polite kiss.

“Happy you could join us,” he said.

Leia shook her head with a scolding smile and slapped her husband’s arm gently, “Still such a scoundrel. Sit down, Han, and order us some drinks.”

Mey-Gon couldn’t stop smiling as she settled around the table with the couple, “I do hope I’m not imposing on an occasion or anything…”

“You’re fine, kid,” Han waved a dismissive hand, “We’ve just been eating out a lot because it’s easier than cooking at home. Leia has a habit of working late, as you probably know. I’m guessing you’re one of the new aides or, Force forbid, a lobbyist?”

“Worse,” she grinned, “Actress.”

“Mey-Gon will be playing me in an upcoming holodrama,” Leia explained.

“Oh, yeah?” he gave her another once-over, “You don’t look like nearly enough of a pain in the ass.”

Mey-Gon hid her laugh behind her hand as Leia combined her knowing smile with a glare. Looking pretty pleased with himself, Han paused for the arrival of their wine, then swirled his around and smoothly continued, “So who do they got playing me?”

“I look forward to finding out,” she admitted, “We won’t really meet until training. Production has us scheduled for some kind of bootcamp for the action scenes. I have to admit, I’m pretty excited to learn how to shoot a blaster.”

Leia sipped her wine thoughtfully, then looked at Han with a wistful smile, “Can you believe a generation has grown up without ever needing to handle a weapon?”

They shared something meaningful through their eyes, then Han reached over to hold his wife’s hand as he turned back to Mey-Gon proudly, “I’ve seen this woman take out a stormtrooper from a hundred yards and pilot a swoop bike through a thick forest, so that better be some kind of bootcamp.”

“I’m sure she’ll do fine,” Leia said, “Mey-Gon is already a swoop racing champion on Haidoral Prime.”

Han looked impressed, so the young woman humbly clarified, “Only a two-time winner of the Haidoral Besh-class Circuit Tour. I’m still hoping to get invited to the pro league.”

“Not bad, not bad,” he nodded, “So I’m guessing you gals already talked about Endor, then?”

“We covered it thoroughly,” Leia assured him, “But you are joining us just in time to discuss the signing of the Galactic Concordance and Ben’s birth.”

“Now, _that_ was quite a day,” Han raised his eyebrows and took a long drink, “Maybe one of the best days of our lives.”

Mey-Gon leaned back with her wine glass poised in front of her lips and eyes glittering with interest, “Tell me all about it…”


	2. Chapter 2

_ 27 ABY, Haidoral Prime _

“Miss Niek,” rang out the sharp voice of the droid.

Mey-Gon jolted awake and blinked rapidly, adjusting to the consciousness shift as she rubbed her head and groaned.

“I really must insist that you get up now,” MK-18 continued, “You are scheduled for practice at the Glitter Circuit in an hour, and based on the average time required for your morning grooming routine…”

“All right, all right, Emkay” she whined hoarsely and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, “I’m up.”

“Very good, ma’am,” it sounded satisfied as it backed up toward the door, “I shall go prepare some caf.”

Mey-Gon watched the door shut behind MK-18 and shook her head. She was still getting used to the new butler droid, but she had to admit that the help was long overdue. The last year had been a whirlwind of events and meetings and holoshoots. Ever since the premiere of her historical holodrama, Mey-Gon’s agent hadn’t stopped fielding requests for appearances and scripts for her to read. Her skyrocketing fame culminated recently when she won an award for her performance as Leia from a very prestigious Mid Rim entertainment guild. The afterparty had lasted a couple days and she could still feel it rattling around in her hungover brain.

But today could not be spent on recovery. This was another big day for her, and she needed a clear head. Between the pending caf and the building prickle of excitement, she knew she would be fine by the time she got to the track. Today she would be setting her lap time at the most famous Aurek-class swoop racing circuit in the system. Representatives from at least a dozen sponsors would be there to evaluate her worthiness for investment during her upcoming rookie season in the pro league.

She grinned at herself in the refresher mirror as she toweled a splash of cold water off her face. Skill was only half of her public appeal, she knew; the rest was image. She was ready to put both on full display today.

When she finally wandered downstairs to the kitchen, MK-18 had the promised caf waiting for her on the counter along with a wrapped parcel.

“I thought you would be interested in this particular delivery, ma’am,” the droid informed her.

“Yes, thank you,” she noted the sender’s postal mark with interest and took a long, refreshing drink of caf before tearing the protective wrapping off the box.

Under the lid, she found a simple handwritten note on a fancy square of flimsi:

_ Congratulations! Keep aiming high. _

_ ~ Leia & Han _

_ (and Ben) _

Wrapped in silky fabric and fitted snugly into a pillow beneath the note was an elegant platinum pistol lined with decorative etching. Mey-Gon picked it up eagerly to admire it from all angles.

“Oh my!” cried the butler droid in bewilderment, “Is that a blaster?”

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, setting it back into the box and downing the last of her caf, “Do me a favor, Emkay, and order me a display case. I’ve got to get to the track.”


	3. Chapter 3

_ 28 ABY, Haidor 2 _

The peace and stillness of the night was punctuated every several seconds by a wave bubbling up onto the sand and retreating with a hiss. Mey-Gon tried to pace her breathing with the sound. The rhythm was mesmerizing. The twinkling stars were mesmerizing. The soft orb of her homeworld hanging like an ornament in the sky was mesmerizing.

Mey-Gon lifted the glass of expensive wine to her lips, appreciating it nearly as much as her surroundings, then indulged in an ironic smile. The only reason she was here at her secret beach house on the moon, Haidor 2, was because her manager had offered her the choice between a vacation or rehab. It wasn’t that she couldn’t handle her alcohol, it was just that she’d become a bit too ingrained in the party scene lately. But who could blame her? There was so much to celebrate and so many beings who wanted to celebrate with her.

Over the last several months, she had enjoyed the success of another feature, joined the cast of a popular holoseries, become the face of a major brand’s advertising campaign, placed third in her very first season of racing with the pros, and picked up some big name sponsors as a result. Her reckless, aggressive racing style had earned a lot of interest and put her on track to be a favorite in the next season. She had more credits than she knew what to do with, so she’d upgraded her lifestyle as much as possible and lived up every moment as much as she could. Life was good and she was happy. Happy, but maybe not completely satisfied.

Her eyes slipped past the glowing planet to look toward a distant cluster of stars. The Core worlds. She might have made it big in her system and be known to some extent by some other Mid Rim audiences, but she had barely made a dent where it really mattered. The celebrities in the Core were still on a whole other level. She needed to keep aiming higher.

A chime sounded from inside the house, interrupting her thoughts and making her frown. Very few beings knew how to contact her out here. She stood up from her seat on the porch and glided inside to accept the pending communication. With the touch of a button, the holographic image of her manager glowed to life over the projector plate.

“Mey-Gon, so sorry to bother you on your- hey, is that wine?-” he scowled.

She lowered her hand out of view, “Maybe? Don’t worry, though, it’s not like there are any gossip journalists out here to capture incriminating holos of it.”

He sighed, “Never mind. That’s not even your biggest scandal anymore.”

“Governor Ebber?” she guessed, “I only went to that gallery with him because I thought he actually wanted to talk about the historical exhibits. You know how excited I get about antiques.”

“Yes, and I know how excited they get about you,” he grumbled, “One of these days you’re going to stop being so naive about the effect you have on old men; but, no, that’s still not what I contacted you about. This is about Leia…”

Mey-Gon brightened at the mention of her dear friend’s name, then furrowed her brows in concern, “What’s wrong with Leia?”

“I’m sending you some articles now,” his hands moved out of view, “But the short version is that she came out and confessed to being the biological daughter of Darth Vader,” he paused as though just speaking the name had given him chills, “And then she resigned from the Senate to form some unsanctioned militia and it’s all a big controversial mess.”

Mey-Gon shook her head in disbelief, “How can that-? Darth-? Why-?”

Before she could coherently formulate a real question, her manager continued, “It’s not a good look for her right now, and unfortunately that means it’s not a good look for you. You are still most closely associated with that role, and your relationship with the Solo family is no secret either. I don’t want you to get dragged down in disgrace as well. We need to improve your image. Publicize you doing some altruistic projects, maybe start a charity? Orphans or refugees or something - I don’t know, just think about it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said distantly, nodding, “I’ll think of something.”

“All right,” he tried to give her an encouraging smile, “We’ll talk about it when you get back. Drink some water.”

She narrowed her eyes and closed the communication, staring blankly at the projector while her datapad on the counter lit up with the incoming news articles from her manager. Darth Vader’s daughter or not, Mey-Gon still thought the galaxy of Leia and hated to see something like this happen to a woman who had already been through so much. She reached out and dialed a code on the projector, then waited but wasn’t surprised when her communication went unanswered.

She opted to record a message instead and looked into the image capturer, “Leia, I just heard the news. I’m so sorry…” she shook her head in frustration, then smiled humorlessly, “I know you probably have the whole situation under control, as usual; but if there’s anything I can do for you or Han or Ben, please let me know. Really, anything. May the Force be with you.”

Switching off the device again, Mey-Gon sighed and refilled her wine glass before grabbing her datapad and heading back out onto the porch.


	4. Chapter 4

_ 28 ABY, Corvis Minor IV _

Even though her staff had arrived ahead of her to clean things up a bit before her personal tour, Mey-Gon was still appalled by the state of the village. Buildings were charred and crumbled, debris strewn everywhere, and weary citizens were sitting alongside the main road in filthy clothes and bloody bandages. It wasn’t the first time she’d witnessed a scene like this, and judging by the long list of applications for aid, it wouldn’t be the last time either.

It had taken a little while to get her charity, the Galactic Initiative for Dedicated Entertainers, up and running; but it had paid off perfectly. According to her manager, her brand was stronger than ever. After her carefully publicized appearance at the first disaster site, the donations had come rolling in, other celebrities had jumped on board, and all old connections to Leia, daughter of Darth Vader, were overlooked. After nearly a year, Mey-Gon had made stops at suffering communities all over the Mid and Outer Rims to get her image taken for the holos before heading back to Haidoral Prime and letting her team do the actual relief work. She had seen towns wiped out by everything from natural disasters to animal attacks to pirate raids; but the most common cause of devastation anymore was the ex-Imperial group called the First Order. According to the briefing packet she had viewed on the hyperspace jump over, this new case on Corvis Minor IV was just another example in the trend. It had been a mining town that found themselves suddenly being robbed and nearly destroyed by the First Order’s forces.

One of the publicists that always toured the sites with her stopped suddenly and handed her a G.I.D.E.-branded canteen of water from his prop bag, “Here, this one.”

Mey-Gon followed his pointing finger to where a woman was sitting on the side of the road with her back against the wall of a blown out building. The woman didn’t even notice the approach of the well-dressed stranger until Mey-Gon had knelt down in front of her and was holding out the canteen; and even then, she didn’t move.

“Hey,” Mey-Gon said softly with an encouraging smile, “You’re safe now.”

She was shocked by the deeply haunted look in the eyes that now rose to meet hers, “They took everything.”

“The First Order?” Mey-Gon guessed.

“Their faceless devils. Their  _ stormtroopers _ ,” she said the word as if it had tried to strangle her on its way out.

Mey-Gon placed a comforting hand on the woman’s arm. She had seen holos of the new First Order stormtroopers and it had given her chills. Even though she had viewed actual Imperial stormtrooper armor in a museum before and even acted in countless scenes with stunt people in stormtrooper costumes, there was nothing like seeing a true soldier of evil in action. She couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like to be personally terrorized by them.

“But you  _ are _ safe now,” she said again.

She could hear the hum of the camera drone circling them for a good holo shot, so she tried once more to hand the woman the canteen. This time she took it and cautiously tilted it up for a drink.

Mey-Gon smiled encouragingly, then stood up to continue her walk through the town. She glanced at the publicist’s bag of props and noticed a couple stuffed banthas in case they came across any children, but so far she hadn’t seen any. It was possible there just hadn’t been any in a working town like this, but she had a sick feeling that the real explanation matched one of the more sinister rumors he had heard about First Order attacks.

Her next stop was obvious when she approached the tallest structure in town and saw the man waiting in front of it. He was sitting in a hover chair and his legs were cocooned in a bacta wrap that bore her organization’s logo.

“The mayor,” her publicist whispered.

This man was more lucid than the woman in the street had been, and he held out a hand to Mey-Gon as she approached, “Miss Niek, thank you so much for coming. After what we’ve been through, to see your team show up with all the medicine and construction…” He trailed off sadly.

“The G.I.D.E. is at your service now, sir,” she assured him, “We’ll bring in whatever it takes to rebuild your town and get the people back on their feet again.”

He only managed a hint of a hopeful expression before it cracked and his eyes filled with wavering moisture, “How can we recover from this? We lost so much: the ore, the equipment, the younglings…”

So it was true. Mey-Gon tilted her head back and lifted her eyes to keep her own tears from spilling over. As she blinked away the emotion, she found herself focusing on a shattered window above them and squinted in confusion. Inside the window were the tattered remains of a First Order flag, still pinned at the corners from where it had been displayed.

“What is that?” she whispered.

The mayor didn’t even have to look up to know what she was talking about, and he hung his head in shame, “When they showed up out of nowhere and took over operations, there was nothing we could do-”

“I thought it was a sudden attack,” she frowned.

He shook his head, eyes glazing over, “They occupied the town for weeks, transporting away all our ore and giving speeches about a galaxy ruled by order and justice. We thought that maybe if we cooperated, showed that we supported their vision...maybe they would spare us as an ally.” He clenched his jaw, “But in the end, they still took everything we had and razed the whole town.”

“I don’t understand,” Mey-Gon furrowed her brow in frustration, “If this was going on for weeks, why didn’t you call for help from the New Republic Defense Fleet?”

“We did,” he said immediately, then his lip twisted up into a sarcastic smile, “They denied our request, said the First Order was a minor local issue.”

For a moment, she was appalled, but then she realized that this response wasn’t a surprise at all. She didn’t follow politics very closely, but the one thing she did know was that the First Order was a bigger threat than the New Republic was willing to admit. She had seen evidence of that with her own eyes. She also knew this was the very reason that Leia had gone rogue to form her own military group.

Leaning in closer to the mayor, she lowered her voice, “Why didn’t you contact the Resistance?”

He recoiled in shock, yet managed to keep his voice to a harsh whisper as well, “The Resistance? But they’re extremists!”

Mey-Gon pressed her lips together to prevent her from arguing further and stood up straight again, transforming her expression back to the sympathetic one that looked good in the holos, “Well, whether your people choose to rebuild or relocate, the G.I.D.E. is here to help. My staff will be by to discuss everything with you soon.”

The rest of her visit did very little to assuage her heartbreak and frustration, and she found herself still bothered as she sunk into the soft nerf leather seat at the helm of her personal light corvette. The glow of hyperspace shifted and danced as it warped itself around her wide transparisteel viewport, and she couldn’t help but think about all the worlds and souls which that light represented.

Were there really so many beings willing to just roll over and embrace their own subjugation by tyrants? But that was already proven. History had shown how pliable the galaxy had become whenever power changed hands, which it had multiple times over the course of just the past century alone. If the First Order ever did grow bold enough to rise up and overthrow the New Republic, most of the galaxy would probably just accept it. There were so few beings like Leia, who were willing to fight back. Mey-Gon realized sadly that she was no fighter either; but she would continue to resist the First Order in her own way, even if that just meant cleaning up after them, one devastated town at a time.


	5. Chapter 5

_ 29 ABY, Coyerti _

The veteran racer had Mey-Gon pinned between his swoop bike and the track wall, leaving no opportunity for her to maneuver before the upcoming turn. This was frustrating enough, but then she saw out of the corner of her eye as one of the newcomers on their fancy experimental energy bikes pulled around the veteran from the outside. She was now in third place with less than two laps left.

Tapping lightly on the breaks and juking fast to the left she saw the blur of the veteran pass her a fraction of a second before her bike jerked in his direction. Instead of a collision, she slid perfectly through the gap between him and the next racer with barely a few centimeters of cushion in either direction. She blew a relieved breath into her face guard but didn’t dwell on the miraculously-timed maneuver for any longer than that. Faking an overcorrection back toward the veteran, she caused him to swerve, clipping the wall and spinning out into the bike behind him.

Mey-Gon gunned her engine and eased the nose of her swoop closer to the back end of the leader. This portion of the track was narrow, and she wouldn’t have an opportunity to pass until the last corner before the start of the final lap. Until then, she intended to stay right on this upstart’s tail.

Most racers didn’t dare follow each other as closely as she was now. All it usually took was for the lead bike to perform a break check and knock their opponent askew or force them into a panicked reaction that killed their momentum; but Mey-Gon’s reflexes were fine-tuned and her nerves icy with adrenaline that seemed to slow down time. She could break and accelerate almost simultaneously with whatever maneuvers her target attempted in order to shake her.

After so many practice runs on this track, muscle memory carried her through the twists and turns of the next kilometer; so Mey-Gon spared some of her attention span to glare at the swoop in front of her. She hated the new bike design, she hated the logo, she hated the questionable engine mechanics, and she hated the elite attitude of the entire team around it. As much as she loved winning, she was even more motivated by her desire not to lose to this particular racer. The last corner was coming up fast and it was the first time the track would widen up, mainly to accommodate the slide necessary to round the tight turn. It wasn’t ideal for the spacing necessary to attempt an overtake, but Mey-Gon was determined to risk it anyway. She could wait for a more ideal section during the final lap, but a lot of things could happen between now and then.

The lead swoop was already positioning itself close to the inner wall, preparing to take the turn with maximum sliding room. Mey-Gon drifted to the outside, bracing herself for the G-forces that she would have to successfully control in order to corner wide without breaking into a momentum-slowing slide. The turn was upon them in a blink; and she cut to the outside, maintaining her chasing speed and fighting the steering controls that threatened to throw her wide into the outside wall. The other swoop executed a standard slide, missing Mey-Gon’s bike by a hair as she pulled past it and into the lead. Not letting up on the acceleration over the straightaway, she put enough distance between her and the rest of the pack that nobody even came close to touching her during the final lap.

After an hour of celebrating in the winner’s suite, Mey-Gon swaggered out into the throngs of holonet press with her entourage, still feeling completely untouchable. Questions were shouted over each other and camera drones hovered in as close as they dared. Mey-Gon glanced at her manager and he nodded back at her, so she paused in front of the throng.

“Mey-Gon!” one shout rose above the rest, “Can you address the rumors that you and D’a Dekriss are dating?”

“Oh, that’s a fun rumor,” she answered coyly, “I think I’ll let him answer that.”

“Mey-Gon! Mey-Gon!” someone else yelled, “Are you able to give us any clues about the fate of your character, Doon Kahn, after that cliffhanger finale last season?”

She laughed and made an airlock motion over her mouth, “I’m absolutely not going to spoil that for you.”

“Mey-Gon!” another journalist waved, “Will you be donating some of your winnings tonight to your charity organization?”

“Of course,” her smile grew a little more serious, “We still have so much work to do…” something bubbled up inside of her, fueled by the high of her victory and the inhibition-blockers of all the champagne she’d drunk, and she looked directly into the nearest holorecorder lens with the cocky grin of someone who feels invincible, “Because for every city that the First Order burns down, I’ll be there to build it back up. Until the  _ cowards _ in the New Republic Senate finally wake up to fact that th-”

“That’s enough questions for tonight,” her publicist stepped in front of her with outstretched arms, “Thank you, all.”

Mey-Gon let herself get dragged away by her manager into the waiting repulsorlimo, where he directed her toward a couch and stood in front of her with his arms crossed, “You can’t keep saying controversial things like that. You’ll ruin everything we’ve built.”

“But-”

“You can’t!” he slammed a fist into an open palm, “End of discussion.”

The high came crashing down and Mey-Gon pouted all the way home. She was still sulking hours later as she lounged on her form-foam sofa, sipping a cocktail and watching a trashy reality holoseries.

“Miss Niek,” MK-18 shuffled into the entertainment room, “You have a communication...”

“I don’t want to talk to him right now,” she mumbled.

“It is from Leia Organa,” the droid finished.

Mey-Gon sat up brightly, “Transfer her in.”

A couple seconds later, a hologram flickered to life over the projector plate next to the couch and Mey-Gon broke into a delighted grin at the sight of her friend smiling back at her in real time. They had sent each other short, vague messages several times over the past year since Leia’s resignation from the Senate, but this was the first time they’d shared a live connection.

“Congratulations, Mey-Gon,” Leia beamed.

“Leia, it’s so good to see you!” Mey-Gon gushed, “How are you doing? How’s Han? And Ben? I simply must know what the Resistance is like!”

At first Leia laughed, but then her expression grew increasingly pinched, “I’m doing as well as I can, all things considered. Han...Han left, and Ben is...on a different path now. Luke has disappeared too.” The flash of raw pain smoothed out into calm after an effort that even the professional actress was impressed with, “But I’m still right where I need to be, with the Resistance.”

“I don’t…” Mey-Gon shook her head, at a loss for words, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right, I’m not completely alone. The Resistance has a few secret supporters, and there are still some,” Leia looked directly into the camera, “who aren’t afraid to openly speak out against the First Order as well.”

She swallowed nervously, “Well, apparently it does me more harm than good. But it’s just so frustrating, seeing all the pain and destruction. If the Resistance can’t stop them….”

“We do, Mey-Gon, all the time,” Leia interjected, “We’ve saved hundreds of cities, countless beings. Not a week goes by that we aren’t rushing in to stop an attack, but you’ll never hear about those successes. The New Republic won’t acknowledge the lives we’ve saved because they disagree with our methods. But we can’t be everywhere at once. There are cities that we reach too late. Those are the ones that call out to you after the damage is done. To put it simply, our resources are stretched too thin.”

For a moment, Leia looked guilty and Mey-Gon understood, furrowing her brows seriously, “What do you need? I’ll make it happen.” 

“I have no right to ask such a thing of you,” Leia rubbed a hand across her mouth and averted her eyes, “And I never would, if things weren’t so desperate.”

“Please,” Mey-Gon assured her, “I want to help.”

“All right,” she nodded, “There might be something you can do...”


	6. Chapter 6

_ 29 ABY, Canto Bight _

For the first time in a long time, Mey-Gon felt out of her league. The other patrons of the Canto Bight casino were more wealthy and ruthless than she could ever dream of being. They were throwing down bids the size of her entire acting contract on single rolls of the dice at gambling tables. A number of them gave her a second glance, as though they recognized her from somewhere. It was very possible that her holos had made it all the way to the Corporate Sector of the Outer Rim, where Cantonica was nestled, but nobody went so far as to admit that they were a fan.

Regardless of her actual status, Mey-Gon visually blended in with the human and alien crowd perfectly. Her copper hair gleamed with the oils she had used to smooth it up into an avant-garde style and her rich, velvety black dress featured an off-the-shoulder neckline that plunged into a distractingly deep “V” while the rest of the fabric clung tightly to her curves before flaring out below the knee. When the look was this on-point, she had no problem acting the part flawlessly.

The whole assignment was so clandestine and thrilling, she felt like a character in one of her dramas. Excitement simmered under her confident exterior, potent enough to rival the moments before a big audition or the opening buzzer of a swoop race. This kind of adventure was bound to get just as addicting as her other pursuits; and if the Resistance benefited from it, then all the better. Mey-Gon had already met with the arms dealer the previous day, and her first ever black market transaction had proved to be quite the challenge. It was a good thing she liked challenges.

She had found the Toydarian on a balcony overlooking the beach; and from there, he invited her out onto his private yacht for the negotiations. It turned out that the dealer didn’t really like to negotiate and Mey-Gon was terrible at it anyway. She had no idea what weapons were supposed to cost, and so she didn’t really know what kind of discount to ask for. Paying full asking price from the seller was probably a scam only amateurs fell for; but she had the credits, so the deal was sealed.

According to her accountant, Mey-Gon’s occasional rant against the First Order and New Republic, alike, had cost the G.I.D.E. a handful of steady donors over the past few weeks. Interestingly, though, the number of anonymous contributions had actually increased in the same time period. She had also lost a couple racing sponsors, so her personal wealth took a small hit; but the purchases on this trip weren’t coming out of her own account. Arming the Resistance accomplished all the same goals that her charity was founded upon, so the G.I.D.E. was unknowingly covering the costs.

Tonight she was gliding through the casino, looking for the dealer that had agreed to discuss ships with her. Vague anonymous notes had been exchanged via a dark corner of the holonet which Leia had introduced Mey-Gon to in order to set everything up for this trip. The ship dealer had told her to come to the slot machines on the third level at this appointed time and look for the fuzzy tauntaun. At first she had wondered if this was some kind of code that she didn’t understand or if someone would have a stuffed toy with them or maybe even a complete live animal - rich beings were eccentric like that. But when she didn’t see any of these items along the row of slot players, she suddenly realized it meant the drink. Finally, she located the frothy drink sitting on top of one machine and she paused next to it, happy to see that the gambler was an older near-human male. Those were her specialty.

Sensing her behind him, he turned and dragged his gaze up her figure, nodding in appreciation, “Finally, the jackpot.”

“If your rings line up right,” she promised.

“I can’t wait to find out,” he stood, heading toward the nearest lift.

She followed him, feeling that tickle of danger and excitement bubble up even stronger. They rode the lift to a floor with restaurants and lounges, and without even exchanging a word, one of the casino employees nodded at them and led them to a private booth, pulling a curtain closed around them that immediately dampened the sound.

“So you can tell me what you’re in the market for, or you can browse my catalogue and let me know what strikes your fancy,” her companion cut right to the chase, pulling a projector disk out of his jacket pocket and setting it down on the table in front of her.

“I know the general categories,” she activated the disk and started scrolling through the tiny images, occasionally selecting one to enlarge, “How about you buy me a drink while I narrow it down?”

He chuckled, “Only if you let me choose the drink.”

“All right,” she agreed, “Just no fuzzy tauntauns; they don’t agree with me. Pick something strong.”

His chuckle grew into a genuine laugh, “I think I’m going to like doing business with you.”

Mey-Gon had selected a medical frigate and a couple shuttles by the time their drinks arrived. Hers turned out to be a glass of straight bourbon from some exotic world, served over spiced ice and with a sprig of herb. She clinked her glass against the man’s and took a sip of the delicious liquor.

“Mmm, I think I’ll enjoy doing business with you as well,” she smiled, “Now, I want to see the fighters.”

He reached over to bring up the requested menu and leaned back to watch as she scrolled through. She casually sipped on her drink as she looked at her options, until one caught her attention and made her gasp.

“X-wings!” she enlarged the holo and watched with sparkling eyes as it rotated in front of her, “You know Luke Skywalker used to fly one of these.”

“Well,” the dealer seemed amused, “His was a T-65B, if I recall correctly, and my stock is mainly T-70s. Still Incom manufactured, if it matters to you.”

“Oh, yes, just as I’d hoped,” she said, even though she had no idea what he was talking about, “I’ll take a dozen.”

“A whole squadron?” he raised his eyebrows, “I’d hate to be the ex that kriffed you off, lady.”

“Yes, you would,” she replied mysteriously, sliding the projector back towards him as she returned to savoring the liquor.

He reviewed her selections with a nod, “Will this complete your order, miss?”

“For today,” she said and reached into her top to produce a datachip, “This contains my account information and the empty space coordinates for where my people will meet you to take delivery of the order. You’ll be sure to route this through an account that makes it look like a relief package for Hays Minor, as we discussed?”

“Of course,” he took the datachip, “I wouldn’t do anything to endanger the opportunity for further dealings with yourself. In fact, I’ll tell you what. I’ll include an entire case of that bourbon with your order,” he nodded toward her drink.

She smiled weakly, regretting the fact that she wouldn’t actually receive the gift, herself. Hopefully, Leia would enjoy it. They did have similar taste.

Mistaking her expression for a true lack of enthusiasm at his gesture, the man continued, “And, those X-wings you loved, I’ll throw in a custom paint job on one of them, free of charge - just for you,” his eyes moved from her body-hugging dress to her coiled hair, “Black and orange, in honor of the beautiful lady it flies for.”

Genuinely flattered, her smile grew wider and she raised her glass, “Cheers to that.”


	7. Chapter 7

_ 31 ABY, Malastare _

“Head back, please,” the Bothan stylist instructed and Mey-Gon obediently tilted her face toward the ceiling of her prefab dressing room.

The Twi’lek woman doing her makeup sighed and scooted over to accommodate the change in position. Somewhere out of view, Mey-Gon could hear her manager clicking his tongue as he sat on her couch, working on his datapad.

“These shots from your trip to Pressylla yesterday look marketable,” he commented, “I mean, the city looks like hell, but the cam drones really captured your good angles.”

“Oh, that’s a relief,” she said carefully, so as not to sabotage her makeup artist, “I was trying so hard not to make a face from the smell.”

“Yeah, perfect, it looks like you’re holding back tears. Very sympathetic. Maybe even enough to overcome your liability.”

Mey-Gon frowned, then immediately snapped back to neutral when the Twi’lek hissed a frustrated breath through her nose. Now that she thought about it, her list of scripts to read had been getting smaller lately. She’d kept so busy with her side projects that it hadn’t really concerned her. Over the past several months she’d made countless publicity appearances at disaster sites with the G.I.D.E. and taken a couple more “vacations” to Canto Bight. And all of that was between her busy shooting schedule and the swoop racing pre-season. If something was jeopardizing her future gigs, she hadn’t noticed; after all, that was her manager’s job.

“What liability?” she finally asked.

“Your opinions, of course. Well, at least you’ve toned down your rants,” she could almost hear him rolling his eyes, “but you’re probably still on some kind of First Order hit list, just for publicizing their atrocities with your charity work. Perhaps you should have your people screen the aid requests more carefully? Less political attacks, more natural disasters.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Mey-Gon said, feeling a surge of righteous anger, “I’m not going to deny anyone help just because it’s bad PR for the First Order.”

“Like I said, liability,” he grumbled, “Just be extra careful. I know this is one of the best action holo crews around, but make sure you double-check everything before throwing yourself into any of these stunts. These days, you never know who you can tr-”

A loud and rather urgent knock drummed against the door, causing everyone in the dressing room to jolt in surprise. The hairstylist hurried forward to answer the door and made a shocked sound when he pulled it open to reveal a handful of uniformed New Republic security officers. They immediately focused on Mey-Gon and stepped inside toward her chair. She felt her heart drop and, for a panicked moment, indulged in the dramatic thought that she had been framed for something, before remembering that she probably did have some legitimate crimes under her belt by now.

“Mey-Gon Niek,” one officer read from his datapad, “We are placing you under arrest for the crimes of embezzlement, credit laundering, and aiding of an extremist organization.”

“Now, wait just a minute-!” she started to protest as another officer pulled her to her feet and started to cuff her wrists.

“Don’t say anything!” her manager stepped forward, “For kriff’s sake, Mey-Gon. Do not. Say. Anything.”

She looked around helplessly at her hair and makeup team, now scooted as far away as they could get with arms raised innocently and shock on their faces, then she cast one last desperate look at her manager as the officers started to lead her away, “What do I do?!”

“You keep your mouth shut,” he instructed, trailing along at a distance as she was taken toward a transport, “Let them book you until the bail is processed, then we’ll fight the rest in court.”

She nodded, pressing her lips tightly together and feeling her chin start to quiver. She tried not to think about all the cast and crew staring now at the spectacle of her humiliation. She tried not to think about the detention center she would be tossed into shortly. She tried not to think about the damage this would cause to everything she’d worked so hard to build for herself. She tried not to think about the ways she was failing Leia and the Resistance.

She burst into tears anyway.


	8. Chapter 8

_ 31 ABY, Haidoral Prime _

Sprawled dramatically on her soft bed in her fluffiest bathrobe, Mey-Gon still couldn’t stop trembling. It had taken nearly a day to process her outrageous bail, and the night spent in detention was by far the worst night of her life. She couldn’t get comfortable, she couldn’t eat or sleep, she didn’t want to talk to anyone, she had just sat there and thought of all the things she was about to lose. In the worst case scenario, her trial would go poorly and she would face years in prison; her life over at twenty-seven. In the best case scenario, she would be slapped with a crippling fine and released back into the galaxy with a reputation that was beyond destroyed. No respectable production would cast her after this; no company would want their logo on her racing suit; nobody who read the news would donate another single credit to her organization. She would have to sell everything and move to some second-rate world to star in shady adult holos and take up street racing under a pun-based alias, no doubt. She sniffed and sighed tragically.

“You have an incoming communication from Leia, ma’am,” MK-18 entered the bedroom, carrying a glass over to her, “And I thought perhaps this would help, as well.”

“I don’t want to talk to anyone right now,” Mey-Gon sat up and accepted the cocktail, looking sadly at her butler, “Oh, what will I do without you, Emkay?”

“Don’t worry, Miss Niek. I am sure your hard work will put you back on track before long. However, I will be happy to show you how to use a garment washer on your own while we still have a chance.”

“Thank you,” she sniffed again and sipped on her drink while the droid retreated back to its duties.

Despite the strength of the alcohol, she felt suddenly sobered by the realization that her only real friend was a droid she would soon be forced to sell. Sure, her communicator had been backlogged with messages when she got home, but most were from her team of lawyers and agents and publicists. The few acquaintances and costars and entourage members that had called were probably just eager for scandal and drama, the way she had always been too. None of them had ever called her just to genuinely check in before. She would fall from grace alone. Maybe Leia was the only person who understood what that felt like, but Mey-Gon simply couldn’t face her any time soon.

The boozy drink did begin to calm her nerves, and soon the exhaustion of the past day settled heavily over her and she passed out. When she next came to her senses, it was in response to a distant low humming. She opened her eyes wearily and looked around, but the room was dark and the sky outside her window was also dark, though she could distinctly hear the repulsors of a landing ship - no doubt her manager and an army of lawyers coming to harass her after she ignored all their messages. She groaned, wondering why this couldn’t wait until morning.

Not wanting to face them in nothing but her bathrobe, Mey-Gon reached for her bedside lamp and brushed her fingers over the touch-sensitive surface, but it didn’t turn on. Frowning, she lifted her head to try again and noticed that all of the items in her bedroom that usually glowed softly were now dark. Only the moonlight streaming in the window afforded her any view of her surroundings. Before she could even begin to wonder what had happened to the power, MK-18 hurried into the room, arms raised in alarm.

“Miss Niek, there are s-”

Suddenly a red bolt of energy shot through her doorway and exploded against the droid’s head, knocking it to the ground.

“Emkay!!” Mey-Gon screamed, sitting up and freezing when she saw the next thing coming through the door.

It felt like the slow motion of a nightmare as the stormtrooper stepped into her bedroom, white armor glowing in the moonlight. That helmet with the soulless face turned to look directly at her, then it raised its rifle to line her up in its sights. There was no escape, no chance to plead for her life, no point in even moving. This was how it ended.

Out of nowhere, her butler sat up - sparks still flying from what remained of its head - and launched itself at the stormtrooper’s legs. The soldier stumbled and the shot pulled wide, burning into the pillow at Mey-Gon’s elbow. As the two scuffled on the floor, she finally dove from her bed and fumbled into her display shelf, knocking free the case with the beautiful blaster from Leia in it. The glass shattered against the floor and she grabbed up the weapon, shaking as she relied on what little training she’d had for her roles in action holos to guide her through activating and firing the weapon. She came around the side of the bed, shots landing wildly and hitting stormtrooper and droid alike until nothing was moving.

Horrified, she jumped over the mass of armor and metal and fled from the room, running for the stairs. When she spotted the stormtrooper on the staircase, though, she shrieked and skidded to a stop so quickly that she fell over. Red laser bolts sailed just over her head as she fell and singed the edge of her robe in her mad scramble to get back into her room. This time, she locked herself in the refresher and pressed her back against the far wall, aiming her blaster with shaking arms toward the door.

After a couple seconds, she started to doubt this strategy and looked up at the window above her. She didn’t have much of a chance in a standoff with stormtroopers; but maybe, if she was sneaky enough, she could run away. As the blows started to fall upon the refresher door, denting it with every strike, Mey-Gon tucked the blaster into her deep robe pocket and slid open the window. It took some wiggling, but she finally managed to pull herself through and tumble inelegantly down the slope of the roof, gasping sharply as she caught herself right at the edge.

The entire grounds below her were dark except for the moonlight bouncing off of the white armor of a few other stormtroopers waiting outside. Her vision dizzy, Mey-Gon held still, hoping they hadn’t noticed her exit, but all hope was lost with the rise of excited filtered voices and then the volley of red laserfire around her position. She screamed and covered her face against the shrapnel, curling into a ball to make herself a smaller target. Suddenly the night illuminated with blue and the filtered voices started shouting with more urgency. The roof was no longer exploding around her, so Mey-Gon rolled to her bare feet and sprinted along the edge until she was adjacent to the hangar. It was a long fall to the ground, but even longer to jump to the other roof, so she’d have to take her chances with the drop.

She spared a glance back towards the darkness where blue and red blasts were flashing angrily through the air, charring into the side of her house or shattering windows. At least one figure in white armor lay dead in her garden. She was utterly confused, but grateful for the distraction as she lowered herself over the eave, letting herself dangle for a moment with swinging legs before taking a deep breath and letting go of the edge. Landing first on her feet with a yelp of pain, her knees immediately buckled and she crashed fully down into the flower bed. Nothing felt broken or sprained, so she hauled herself back to her feet and ran for the hangar. For the first time, she noticed an unfiltered voice yelling something through the darkness; but there was just so much yelling and shooting and blood pumping in her ears, that she didn’t think twice about it.

The inside of the hangar was pitch black, so she felt her way along until she found the control pad on the door of her light corvette. She blinked rapidly against the brightness of the entire running light array illuminating as soon as she unlocked the ship and rushed inside to the cockpit, firing up a quick-start sequence for the engine. With the power still out, there was no way to open the bay doors, and Mey-Gon whimpered as she accepted the fact that she would have to physically ram them with her luxury transport. She boosted the shields to maximum, even though they were really only designed to repel small debris away from scratching her paint job, then braced herself and lifted off.

A jolt slammed her into the back of her seat, and she heard the engines cycle loudly just before a metallic crunching sound and the whiplash of breaking free. She opened her eyes and gasped in a relieved breath when she saw the clear stars and moons gliding across her viewport. With one hand she launched the ship toward that view and with the other she shakily touched on every maintenance reading available to make sure that there was no compromising hull damage. Everything still appeared to be space-worthy, so she brought both hands back to the controls and tried to calm her breathing and racing heart.

The planet, her home, and all the chaos below weighed down on her like the gravity she was accelerating against; but the faster she flew, the more in control she felt. It was the paradox that had defined so much of her life already; and now, as she pushed the ship’s engines to their limits, she found that her hands had stopped shaking and her mind was focused. She needed to get to a safe place before even trying to mentally work through everything that had just happened. Her secret beach house was the safest place she knew, so she adjusted her course toward the moon.

The property looked deserted and undisturbed as she landed, but Mey-Gon drew her blaster anyway and approached her own door like one of her action hero characters about to storm a villain’s headquarters. Everything was quiet inside and all her devices glowed warmly and welcomed her back with their displays. Still, she felt like she was going to throw up and couldn’t help but flinch as she rounded each corner, blaster first, expecting to find herself staring down the barrel of another stormtrooper’s rifle. When it was clear that the house was deserted, she surrendered to her nerves and collapsed into a shuttering heap on her couch. She cried until she was too exhausted to continue the effort, then she dragged herself out to lie on the porch and stare blankly over the view that usually brought her such inspiration.

If she had thought her life was over before, it was even more certain now. Regardless of where she ended up after the trial, prison or some sketchy Outer Rim world, she wouldn’t be able to hide from her enemies. She wasn’t even sure she’d be able to surround herself with enough protection to make it to the trial at all. What she was sure of, as her stomach tightened with anxiety again, was that she couldn’t live the rest of her life sleeping with one eye open and constantly looking over her shoulder for the next stormtrooper. She couldn’t let them win. There was only one group in the galaxy that knew how to deal with the First Order; one place that could keep her safe.

At last, she climbed onto wobbly legs and staggered to her communicator, dialing Leia’s code and praying that her friend was not angry with her for sabotaging her own usefulness to the cause. Her mouth felt dry as she watched the blinking light and wondered if she’d be able to maintain any dignity while recording a message begging for help. To her surprise, the signal connected and Leia’s hologram materialized in front of her.

“Mey-Gon!” the older woman burst, “Thank the Force! Where  _ are _ you?”

“I’m somewhere secret...for now…” she blinked away the tears that were starting to well up, “But they came for me at home - the First Order - they’re trying to kill me…”

“I know,” Leia leaned forward in concern, “We intercepted a target list and as soon as I saw your name, I tried to contact you, but you didn’t answer. When you didn’t respond to the message I left either, I feared the worst, so I sent one of my men to extract you...”

At first Mey-Gon wanted to kick herself for not listening to Leia’s message earlier. A rescue would have been nice. Then something jumped out at her from the hazy memories of her frantic escape - the blue laser bolts, the unfiltered voice.

“Someone else was there, I think,” she nodded, “But I just ran away and came here. I didn’t know...”

“It’s okay,” Leia assured her, “We’ll check in with him. I’m just glad you’re safe.” Her worry smoothed out into a sympathetic smile as her eyes moved up and down, “You had a rough day, didn’t you?”

Mey-Gon looked down too, finally registering the state of herself. Her robe was filthy and singed from the shots that had grazed a little too close. Her legs and feet were scratched up and smeared with dirt and blood. She didn’t even want to know what her hair looked like.

“It only gets rougher from here,” she swallowed, “I know that the New Republic’s charges against me...well, I failed you, Leia, I can’t be helpful anymore. They’re going to take everything I own, and then the First Order will hunt me down in hiding or in prison, it doesn’t matter. I can’t risk coming back here at all. I know I have nothing left to offer you and no right to ask…”

“Come here,” Leia said without hesitation, “Just for a while, if that’s what you want; or join us for good. You’ve done so much for us already and are more than welcome here. The Resistance will protect you.”

Mey-Gon gasped out a sigh of relief, “Thank you so much! I don’t want to be a…” she winced, “liability, but I have to warn you - when I miss my court date, they’ll put out a warrant. You’ll be harboring a fugitive.”

Leia’s chuckle was reassuring, “I’m sure you won’t be the only one here with a price on their head from both the New Republic and the First Order. I just never imagined you as the type.”

“Neither did I,” Mey-Gon smiled as well, her nerves already feeling more settled.

“I’m going to send you some coordinates,” Leia explained, “And once you reach them, I will transmit the second half to your ship. This will bring you to our hidden base.”

“Thank you, Leia.”

“Please come as quickly as you can, and may the Force be with you.”

The connection ended and Mey-Gon didn’t waste another second. Her heart was pounding with the kind of excitement that she actually enjoyed as she hurried from room to room with her hover luggage, throwing in everything that would fit. Most of the clothes she kept here were specifically beachy - loose, flowy, and semi-transparent - and she had no idea what the climate would be on the world with the hidden base, but she didn’t have much choice. Her collection of makeup and toiletries from luxurious brands took up a lot of space, but she left enough room for a few bottles of her finest wine - a gift for Leia.

All the eagerness that had been building was momentarily smothered by a dizzying feeling as she pulled the luggage out to her ship and looked back at her beach house and the view beyond it. She hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye to her real home, but she could see the planet above her and knew it was there. It felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff; and once she stepped over, she could never come back. It was terrifying and thrilling all at once. She took the step and boarded her ship, leaving her luggage in the parlor as she moved to the cockpit and programmed in the coordinates that Leia had sent her.

As she took off toward the stars, she felt a weight fall off of her - the shackles and pressures of her old life. She was headed toward something new, something brimming with purpose and possibility. This would be her biggest adventure yet. The corvette jumped into its hyperspace lane, and Mey-Gon left the cockpit to go clean herself up.


	9. Chapter 9

_ 31 ABY, D’Qar _

Leaving her ship on the distant landing pad, Mey-Gon set out across the main thoroughfare of the Resistance base, pulling along the hover luggage behind her. The air on D’Qar was a bit too chilly for the thin, backless beach dress she was wearing, and goosebumps began to rise up on her bare arms. Perhaps her awe and excitement were partly to blame as well, as she looked around at the vine-covered bunkers and battle-scarred ships on platforms. Humans and aliens in various styles of uniform were moving about their work, some routinely and some jogging with urgency. These were the heroes of the Resistance, she realized, the brave beings she had secretly rooted for and supported the past few years. They looked so much like the Rebellion, which made walking amongst them all the more incredible. She couldn’t stop grinning.

Some of them looked back at her too, though with something closer to confusion. If she ever wanted to fit in, she’d have to get used to wearing much more neutral colors and pulling her hair up into something more practical than the beachy do she had styled on the way over to match her dress. In the meantime, she didn’t mind standing out a bit. Regardless of how they looked, everyone was here to fight for what they believed in and she felt more than ready to do the same.

Suddenly, she spotted something that also stood out from the others around it and her mouth dropped open - the black and orange X-wing.  _ Her _ X-wing. Mey-Gon hurried toward it, dragging her luggage up onto the platform with her before stretching her arm up to touch the ship’s nose. The metal was still chilled from a recent trip through vacuum and she could hear the click of the engines as they finished cooling down.

“Hey! What are you doing?” someone called.

She snatched her hand back in surprise and looked toward the man that was walking around from behind the fighter. The pilot, she realized when she saw the bottom half of an orange jumpsuit. He had the top half hanging off and one of his shirt sleeves pushed up so that he could dab at a wound on his arm. Between the injury and the disheveled state of his dark hair, it looked like his night had been almost as bad as hers.

“Sorry,” she said, looking back up at the X-wing and smiling, “It’s just such a pretty ship.”

“Sexiest one in the fleet,” he said proudly, distracting himself with a glance at the fighter as well, then suddenly snapping his attention back to her with a scowl, “Hey, wait...you’re the lady I was supposed to pick up....bathrobe girl!”

“I beg your pardon?” she replied with wide eyes and did her best not to blush.

He grinned victoriously anyway, “You clean up all right, princess, but we’re nowhere near square.” His smile grew pinched with frustration, “Didn’t you hear me yelling at you before you went and flew off to save your own skin?”

“I’m sorry,” she huffed in offense, “You’re lucky I had any skin left to save. Those things were in my bedroom before you even showed up. I thought X-wings were supposed to be fast!”

Her insult hit its mark and he lifted his hand away from his arm to point at her, revealing the blood on the bandage he was holding, “I’ll have you know, I’m the fastest-”

“Mey-Gon!” someone called and they both turned to see Leia hurrying up to them.

The pilot straightened up a bit, but Mey-Gon broke into an overjoyed smile and collided with Leia in a desperate hug. Their emotional reunion lasted for several long seconds before Leia finally pulled back and held the younger woman by the shoulders.

“Welcome to the Resistance,” she said warmly.

Mey-Gon could have cried from happiness, but then Leia turned to regard the pilot that she had completely forgotten was still standing there. He looked even grumpier than before.

Leia squeezed Mey-Gon’s arm and grinned mischievously, “I see you’ve already been initiated with some attitude from Wing Commander Dameron.”

“But, General,” he jumped to defend himself, “She left me behind in a firefight-”

“-I didn’t know you were there!-”

“And she was touching my X-wing-”

Leia held up a hand to cut him off, “She  _ bought  _ you that X-wing, Poe.”

His mouth snapped shut and his eyes widened a bit with confusion and perhaps a little amazement. He looked thoroughly chastised, but Mey-Gon felt slightly guilty about it. After all, he had saved her life and taken an injury for the trouble.

“I hope we’re square now, Wing Commander,” she said as kindly as she could manage before grabbing her luggage and following Leia.

“It’s such a relief to see you again,” the general said fondly as they walked, but there was sadness behind her eyes, “And I’m sorry about everything that happened, everything you lost because of what you were doing for us.”

Mey-Gon looked around at the other Resistance members hard at work, then glanced over her shoulder at the black and orange X-wing again. It echoed back a version of herself that felt like something from a different life.

“I still want to help,” she said at last, “I don’t know how, but I’ll find something I can do. I didn’t come here so that I could hide behind the Resistance. I’m here to be a part of it. I’ll make you proud, Leia.”

“I know you will,” she beamed up at her.

Mey-Gon broke into a grin and nodded back to her luggage, “And even if I’m useless, at least I brought you some nice wine.”

Leia laughed, “I can always count on you for a reminder of the finer things.” Then she added apologetically as they entered one of the bunkers, “I’m afraid the accommodations you’ll find here are nowhere near what you’re used to. It’ll be an adjustment, but everyone is here to help you…”

“General!” a young girl called breathlessly as she trotted up, her eyes darting nervously to the fancy newcomer.

“Go ahead, Connix,” Leia nodded.

“Incoming communication from the Middian Station…”

“Keep them on the line,” Leia instructed, then pointed toward a nearby man that had slowed to watch the exchange, “Lieutenant Nalen!”

“Yes, General,” he snapped to attention.

“This is Mey-Gon,” Leia explained quickly, “Assign her to quarters and show her around the base. See if there’s anything she can help out with.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded.

Leia turned back to Mey-Gon, a bit of the sudden military shell slipping to reveal her old friend again, “I’m sorry to run. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“I’ll be fine,” Mey-Gon promised and tried to look confident about it.

Leia patted her arm with a smile, then followed the messenger girl into another room. The man watched them leave before turning to Mey-Gon with a welcoming grin and an outstretched hand.

“I’m Relix,” he said, “Let’s get you moved in.”


End file.
